The End
by Whole Lotta Sarah Tribbiani
Summary: The final showdown. With added RHr fluff. Oneshot.


**The End**

What's going to happen in the so-called 'final showdown' with Voldemort? Probably not this, but oh well! This is just a random version that appeared in my head. There's a lot of these around, but I haven't read many, so I don't really know what they're generally like. Sorry if it's bad. Please tell me what you think.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter. JK Rowling does.

AN: A serious disclaimer to match a serious story.**

* * *

**

"Harry - you did it!"

Harry looked down, clutching his pounding scar. He could hardly see for blood, but he could see that the body of nagini was lying below him, not moving.

Harry collapsed onto his knees, shaking uncontrollably. It was very quiet in the room. Ron and Hermione were smiling shakily.

"Just one more, then," Harry said, hardly able to believe it himself, "That's Voldemort."

Ron flinched. Hermione sighed sadly.

"Yes, I suppose so. I'm surprised he's not here now," she whispered.

Harry shuffled over to them on his knees and slumped by them, against the wall. Hermione looked at him anxiously.

"Oh, Harry, I - don't know what to say!" she gasped, tears sparkling in her eyes, "I mean, you're about t-to face the darkest wizard in history, about to k-kill him - I j-just can't b-believe it!"

She burst into tears and threw her arms around Harry's neck.

"I'm so s-scared," Ron stammered, slipping his hand into Hermione's, "But I can't imagine what you f-feel like, mate."

And, to Harry's amazement, Ron also hugged him. He put an arm around both of them, smiling broadly.

"I'll be OK," he choked, patting them both on the back, "He'll know we're here by now, though, you'd better go."

"Good luck," Ron said, rising and thumping Harry on the back, "I'm sure we'll see you later."

"Yes. We'll - see you -" Hermione sniffed, allowing Ron to steer her out of the room, where they would be apparating to Godric's Hollow.

Harry had never felt quite like he did in that minute alone. He couldn't think at all for a great feeling of intense fear, sorrow and anticipation. His stomach was churning, but he was so numb he knew he'd never be able to throw up. He simply sat, shivering violently, hardly aware of the hot, prickling tears that were falling thickly down his cheeks. He was not sure exactly why he was crying - perhaps it was the fact that he was in with a huge chance of dying, or that his life up until now had been so distressing ...

"Harry Potter."

Harry looked up, his scar searing so suddenly and painfully that he collapsed, screaming. Lord Voldemort was standing, white and snakelike as ever, a thin, wry smile on his lips, in the middle of the room.

"Tom Riddle," Harry nodded.

Voldemort's smile instantly became crueller. He slowly walked towards Harry, who was paralysed with something. He cast around and was surprised to find that it was no longer fear.

"We meet for the last time, then," Voldemort said, reaching out a long, thin white hand and running his finger down Harry's scar. Harry's head pounded with such ferocity that tears streamed from his eyes and he yelled loudly. He was crying, properly crying. Voldemort laughed.

"We've always had such interesting conversations, haven't we?" he continued, "To buy ourselves time. Very interesting indeed ... when we should have just tried to kill each other straight away. So much time wasted..."

Voldemort kept on talking, but Harry didn't listen. He knew what was coming, and slowly drew his wand.

"This time, however, I have only one thing to say to you."

"PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!"

The body-binding curse came, not from Harry's mouth, not even from Voldemort's, but from Hermione's and Ron's. The door of the room was open, and they were both standing there together. They hadn't left.

The curse simply bounced off Voldemort, but it gave Harry the split-second he had been hoping for...

"**AVADA KEDAVRA**!"

And he meant it. He was strong, filled with energy - and he felt fury - fury that he had never felt before. His face was twisted, his mouth was roaring, and his blood felt like it was well beyond boiling point. He felt inhuman - he was sure he was being posessed. He was sure this was not him. He was sure he was not Harry James Potter...

He collapsed, gasping. He couldn't see, but he knew. It hadn't worked. He knew it wouldn't have. Of course it hadn't worked...

And he, Harry, was going to be killed.

Hermione was screaming. Harry heard her and Ron's footsteps running towards him. He choked and sobbed, trying to call out to them.

"No ... go back ...don't ... he'll get you too ... leave me alone ... please ... you two ... this is the end for me ... I need to go ..."

"Harry!"

He summoned up all of his strength and lifted his head weakly. Hermione and Ron were peering down at him, their faces tear stained, looking petrified. Then it dawned on him.

"He disapparated, didn't he?" he gasped, his voice cracking.

"No, he's - gone."

Harry froze.

"Gone?"

"Gone."

He was really - _gone?_

"Finished?"

"Yes! Harry, you did it! Oh, Harry, get up!"

Harry fiercely wiped his eyes. He felt suddenly powerful. The pain had gone. He sat up, not being able to believe what he'd done.

Hermione embraced him tightly. So did Ron. They hadn't left him. It was them. They had saved his life. They had really finished him off.

"You two - you two - you -" he broke down, unable to continue.

"Harry, it's OK! Oh, Harry, come here," Hermione pulled him closer to her and Ron let go of the pair of them. Harry leant against her, crying hard into her shoulder.

Hermione hugged like a mother. Harry felt weak again. After overcoming the sense of power, he was tired and wanted to sleep. But he knew he shouldn't. He had to stay awake. He had to get home. He had to see Ginny.

He_ had _to stay awake.

He _had_ to get home.

He _had _to see Ginny.

He had to stay awake...

* * *

He opened his eyes slowly. He could see Ron and Hermione were asleep, leaning against each other. 

He noticed something, even in his half-asleep state. Hermione always wore clear, shiny lip gloss. It was the only make up she ever wore. You could never tell she was wearing it, bu she said it was special and was never without it. She'd even piled loads on for extra luck before they set out, although it was unlike her to wear anything on her face that you could see.

It was even more unlike Ron.

His eyes hadn't adjusted to the darkness yet, but he could still see a faint shine around Ron's mouth.

He smiled. He'd known it for years. And it had finally happened.

He felt much more relaxed now. It hadn't sunk in quite yet, but he still knew Voldemort was gone. All the trouble was over. And he didn't have to put up with any more bickering from his two best friends. Sleepily, he reached to rub his sore head.

Wait one moment.

Where was his scar?

* * *

I changed the end to what it originally was. Please R & R. It was happy at the end. 


End file.
